Week
by Just Another Soul
Summary: Not every day in Roanapur is an action packed gunfight. Sometimes, the tasks of Roanapur's finest are mundane at best. A slice-of-life collection.
1. Sunday

**Week**

**A/N:** This story, _Week_, will be a collection of Black Lagoon's extraordinary characters dealing with ordinary situations. By "collection", I mean: nonsense stories I didn't feel comfortable posting as one-shots and found an excuse to compile them into a multi-chapter format.

Just Another Soul holds no responsibility for any brain cells lost reading this drivel.

Disclaimer: Black Lagoon and its characters © Rei Hiroe

* * *

**SUNDAY**

Sharp taps echoed in the chapel. A nun with blonde hair and pink sunglasses stomped briskly through the Church of Violence with a scowl, a towel in one hand and a pair of straight scissors in another. It was her turn to trim the cockatoo's wings again.

Eda cursed. What a nasty little thing that bird was, saying expletives at everyone that passed by the front or squawking the occasional "I'll kill you!" in that annoying parrot voice. But no, it wasn't the language that bothered her.

She squeezed the towel more tightly. That stupid bird had an attitude problem, always hissing in a tone that made it sound like it was possessed whenever she came close, batting its wings wildly and screeching while she tried to get a good grip to make it stay still. She was reminded of the small scar on her left index finger and growled. And on top of it all, that bird liked to bite, _hard_. By comparison, Revy had a better temperament than that stupid parrot.

Yet it didn't act that way around everyone. Whenever Yolanda came by, the bird's attitude made a 180 degree turn. Chattering quietly and acting meek and innocent while the elderly Mother Superior quietly tended to it. Having personally bought it and had it smuggled in from Indonesia as a baby, that cockatoo was her pet.

Eda never gave much thought to whether or not an animal had a conscience, but when it came to that cockatoo, she knew it was capable of rational thought. That bird _knew_ it had it good. Among those who stumbled into Roanapur, that bird probably had the sweetest deal in the entire city. All it had to do was sit outside the church and preen itself while it basked in the colorful scenery and had an old woman tend to its needs.

Well, _most_ of its needs. Somehow, Eda was always the one who drew the shortest straw whenever it came to the subject of who had to trim its wings. Among all the things that came with being a nun for the Church of Violence, taking care of a spoiled bird was the last thing she would have imagined.

Eda would love to wring that lousy bird's neck, but she knew Yolanda certainly wouldn't have it. If anything were to happen to the Mother Superior's cherished Tanimbar cockatoo, there'd be hell to pay.

Eda sighed hopelessly as she opened the doors of the church. It was no use. She was going to be stuck with trimming duty for a long time.

But really, what use was trimming the bird's wings? There was always a tether tying its foot to the perch out front, so it wasn't like it could fly away.

...

Unless the bird chewed through the rope.

Eda dropped the towel and scissors as her eyes bulged.

"No."

She dashed toward the low-leveled perch and knelt down, picking up the chewed tether with a shaking hand.

"Hey, sis!" Rico shouted, coming around the building and seeing Eda's back turned to him.

"It flew away," Eda muttered quietly.

"Huh?" Rico asked, looking over her shoulder and seeing the empty perch.

Eda turned to Rico and held the chewed end of the tether.

"It chewed through and it flew away," Eda repeated. She dropped the thin rope and stood up.

"Sister Yolanda won't be happy about that," Rico said.

"Worse than that, she'll be fucking pissed," Eda said, failing at masking her panic. "I'm going to be staring down the barrel of a desert eagle!"

"Wait, what? What makes you think she's going to blame it all on you?"

"_Acedia_," Eda said exasperatedly.

"Uh... Envy?"

"You call yourself an apprentice priest?" Eda snapped. "Sloth! I was supposed to trim the bird's wings last week, but I put it off! Yolanda's going to be using me for target practice when she finds out!"

Rico couldn't decide whether or not that statement was accurate, but he tried to have an optimistic approach with his following words.

"Well, it's not all your fault. The bird is the one who chewed through the rope. It would have managed to get away no matter how big its wings were. You could have trimmed the wings and it still would have gotten away in short bursts, like how a chicken flies."

Eda gave him a dirty look. She wasn't in the mood for trivia that could be found on the back of a cereal box.

"... but she'll probably blame you when she finds out," Rico admitted sadly.

Eda pinched the bridge of her nose. If she was lucky, Yolanda would chain an oversized cross to her back and force her to walk around Roanapur with it for a month. But was public humiliation really better than dying? She'd be alive in the former option, but she wasn't sure if she'd be happy with giving the trash of the city an anecdote to hang over her head every time she ventured out into the public domain.

Then again, how much better would it be to have "BIRD BRAIN" engraved on her tombstone?

She held her jaw contemplatively. Perhaps if she went into hiding for a while...

Eda was so deep in thought, she didn't hear the quick flapping of wings overhead. Rico looked up and grinned.

"Eda! Look!" He shook her shoulder and pointed to the sky. Eda looked up, seeing the cockatoo emerge from the top of the chapel and flying in a circle above them. A look of relief immediately washed over her face. The bird was still around. She was saved!

Something splatted on her sunglasses.

The cockatoo landed in a nearby tree and squawked.

"Raa! Eat shit and die!"

Something inside Eda snapped.

As the bird excrement made its way down her face, the Rip-Off nun's teeth clenched in a snarl and she reached for the Glock at her side. That was it. Public humiliation, death, hiding—it didn't matter. She took aim.

"Rico, if Yolanda asks, the bird flew away."

"But sis—"

"THE BIRD FLEW AWAY."

* * *

**A/N:** For those of you who can't remember the cockatoo – Episode 7, the bird that starts saying "Hello" and "I'll kill you" when Revy knocks on the Rip-Off Church's door.

Don't worry. I'm sure Eda missed the birdy by an inch and it lived to see another day.

Maybe.


	2. Monday

**MONDAY**

What a mess.

The Lagoon Company had faced yet another firefight, this time in their own building. The place wasn't blown to high heaven by RPGs, as it had been when they took Chang's job request to transport the government documents to Basilan so long ago, but it was still a blood bath. Revy had met her weekly quota for dead bodies in one day.

So naturally, they had to call a cleaner get rid of the mess. It didn't take too long for the job to finish up, but...

Rock, Dutch, Revy and Benny stood outside in front of their office building. They arrived back when they got news that the cleaning job was done. Their expressions varied from confused to annoyed.

"You'd think for what spooky chick charges, she wouldn't pull some weird shit like this." Revy was, needless to say, very unamused.

"Well, at least we know the place is clean," Benny said, looking up.

"When we told Sawyer to clean up, this isn't what I had in mind," Dutch muttered.

"Look at that crap. What the fuck did she do that for?" Revy asked.

"Maybe it's a form of modern art," Rock said weakly.

"Don't know of any galleries that would display that," Dutch said, adjusting his sunglasses.

"It's strange, but there's some beauty in the mystery of it," Benny said, holding his chin in his hand.

"Mystery? Yes. But beauty, Benny boy?" Dutch asked.

"Yeah right, this wasn't done to be artistic. Goth chick and I don't exactly have stellar relations. I bet she did this just to be annoying," Revy growled.

"I can understand the chairs..." Rock mumbled. "But how did she manage to get the couches on the roof?"

On top of the building, various pieces of furniture were arranged to create a living room setting. The smaller pieces like the lamps and chairs were easily explainable, but wondering how the waif-like woman managed to maneuver the large tables and sofas through such narrow doors and halls and up a flight of stairs was vexing.

Benny spoke up.

"... Well, I heard she knows a wizard. Maybe they used magic to get it up there."

No one responded to the facetious comment, and once they got over the initial confusion, their breaths caught in their throats when an extremely important question came to Rock's mind.

"How are we going to put it all back inside?"

* * *

**A/N:** Methinks the main cast won't be calling Sawyer in the near future after that stunt.

Not until after she tells them how she moved the furniture, at least.

It _was_ magic, btw.


	3. Tuesday

**TUESDAY**

"**... After I ripped out... my stitches... the doctor thought I had... issues. I was forced... to see a therapist for it.**" Sawyer pointed to her neck. "**The therapist... kept trying to... motivate me... with banana stickers.**"

Sawyer shook her head.

"**I got sent to a... psych ward... when I bit him... They thought I was... crazy. I'm not crazy... I just don't like... therapists. I escaped from... the ward... Took a few tries, though.**"

The small woman scratched her head, trying to remember.

"**That laundry chute thing... only works in the movies... I had to kill one of the... visitors and steal their clothes... Actually, that's how I got... into this style.**" Sawyer gestured to her gothic clothes. "**I discovered... I liked the clothes a lot... even though... they were a little bit big on me. I did want something... that fit better... but I didn't have any money... so I had to make due with whatever I could... get my hands on.**"

The silver rings on her fingers moved in a sequence as she drummed the digits against her arm. She looked up in thought.

"**It wasn't until... I got my first... cleaning job that I could... afford what I wanted. But that's... another story.**"

A smile crept along Sawyer's pale face and her "voice" gave off a mix of static and ghostly monotone as she cackled.

"**But, of course... you already know that one?**"

Had it been anyone else, Sawyer would have received a look of horror before nervous eyes darted wildly back and forth between the Cleaner and the street.

But Shenhua wasn't "anyone else", and the Taiwanese woman strode leisurely through the marketplace with Sawyer at her side. It was nice to know Sawyer felt comfortable enough with her to share such intimate information. It meant the Cleaner was getting better with dealing with past issues instead of shutting down completely.

Communication was important. It helped a great deal in understanding each other.

Done with reminiscing over the Cleaner's past exploits, Shenhua and Sawyer looked through the beauty products on sale.

Not quite as diverse as the markets in Taiwan, Shenhua noted, but it would do.

"_Sawyer, you're running low on nail polish. This looks like your shade,_" Shenhua said, lifting up a bottle of purple nail polish. Sawyer looked at Shenhua, almost seeming confused.

"**Um...**"

"_What? This isn't it? I could have sworn..._"

Sawyer looked even more unsure now, as though she couldn't think of anything to say.

"**Uh... Shenhua...**" The gothic woman wasn't sure how to tell her friend that she was...

"_What's that look for, Sawyer? You want to tell me something? I..._" Shenhua immediately realized why Sawyer looked confused.

"... I not speaking in English to you, was I?"

Sawyer nodded and Shenhua laughed lightly. She was speaking to the girl in Mandarin. It was a minor slip-up that happened on occasion.

Despite Sawyer's understanding, Shenhua was slightly embarrassed. She didn't like being reminded of her lack of fluency in the English language in any way, shape or form, which was evident by the way she felt like splitting that Twinkie Lagoon girl's ass in four every time she called her "Yes-Lady" and "Chinglish." It was one of the few insecurities she had.

The feeling passed over quickly and they bought the products they needed, including Sawyer's nail polish, and stopped at a book stand. Sawyer was off browsing horror novels while Shenhua picked up a particular book and flipped through its pages.

Communication was important, but understanding could be difficult if there was a small language barrier. Perhaps if she...

It took everything in Shenhua's power not to jump in paranoia as Sawyer tapped her on the shoulder.

"**Shenhua... I'm done... You still looking?**"

Shenhua slammed the book she was looking at face-down on the table.

"No, I done too. We go home now."

Sawyer gave Shenhua an odd look. The Taiwanese woman had spoken more quickly than usual. Sawyer looked behind Shenhua and blinked.

"**Shenhua... Were you just looking... at a Chinese-English dictionary?**"

"No," Shenhua said forcefully.

"**Shenhua... It's okay. It's just a...**"

"We go home now, Sawyer."

Sawyer noted the tone of voice and looked up from the book to Shenhua's face.

The Cleaner immediately registered the look in Shenhua's eyes. "_Shut up and forget about it."_

Sawyer understood perfectly.

"**Okay... Let's go home...**"

They walked back to the apartment in silence, and Sawyer cocked her lips to the side in thought. She swore, in some ways, Shenhua had a worse time dealing with her issues than she did.

Sawyer opened her mouth to make a comment, but immediately closed it when she thought about the repercussions. She knew it was a very... _sensitive_ issue for Shenhua, and Sawyer didn't feel like getting kicked out of the apartment for a week for having a "smart mouth".

Maybe some other time, Sawyer thought.

Communication was important, but perhaps some things were better left unsaid.

* * *

**A/N:** I can't help but think that for all her awesome qualities, Shenhua still does have some insecurities about her English. She almost decapitated Revy in the Goat, Jihad, Rock 'n' Roll arc just for bringing it up ("You got that, Chinglish?"), and we all learned in first grade that people who react violently only do it because they're insecure about themselves and need a big hug.

Or Shenhua just really didn't like that Revy brought it up. Whichever.

Banana stickers for the people who recognized the _Metalocalypse _shout out.


	4. Wednesday

**WEDNESDAY**

A creature of great majesty cannot be ignored.

A soul that flares more than any blazing inferno and eyes capable of burning through mountains with a single gaze, this great creature could annihilate a man on a whim and destroy an army if put in the mood to do so. If one were to glance at this epitome of brute power and force, even for a moment, the impression would last for a lifetime.

God help anyone who dared to disturb this magnificent beast.

Hence, it would come as no surprise that men recoiled when they sensed that this great creature was even in a slight state of discomfort.

Not that she _intended_ to cause such a fuss, as the woman did hate doing so for something that seemed so petty in perspective, but even the regal state of her posture and appearance did nothing to combat the sudden, frigid atmosphere that rivaled the brutal winters of the Motherland when she opened her piercing blue eyes and struck fear into all who were in the room.

It also didn't help quell the nervous air when, Boris noted as he stood at the Kapitan's side, she had nonchalantly split the plate in half with a butter knife.

Everyone's eyes were trained on the fork as she calmly placed it back on top of the broken plate with the knife, and time froze when she opened her mouth.

"My _blini_ is cold."

The words were smooth and without a trace of malice, her expression composed and dignified, but the men could _feel_ the underlying irritation.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

**A/N: **"There are two things in this world I can't stand. One is _blini_ gone cold. The other is cowardly KGB shits." - Balalaika, Volume 4, Chapter 23

The cold _blini_ may be more worse in this case.

And you can't blame her for hating cold _blini_. The woman deserves hot _blini_, damn it!

I'm gonna say "_blini_" one more time 'cause it's a fun word.

_Blini_.


	5. Thursday

**THURSDAY**

On a beaten trail in the middle of the forest, there was a rumble across the hard dirt and a gray Range Rover Classic zipped through, the foliage bordering the path shifting in the sudden gust of air.

"The Wizard" gripped the steering wheel and kept his foot glued to the floor, Shenhua sitting in the passenger's seat reapplying makeup while Sawyer whistled in the back and twiddled her thumbs, sitting next to a rather traumatized looking man, bound and gagged. They all had some time off to do a small job outside of the city together. The "Freelance Trio", for the most part, had been successful so far in the mission.

The rented Range Rover had done well in the terrain and they were well ahead of schedule, but Rotton noticed that may not last too long.

"The fuel is running low," he said airily. It didn't help that the backup gas canister was empty by this point.

"How much time you think we have left for drive?" Shenhua asked, not fazed by the information, adding a light blush to her cheeks.

"Enough to make it to the next town if we keep going in a straight path," Rotton said.

"Next town only ten minute away. Not too bad," Shenhua said.

"**Isn't there... a river... coming up soon?**" Sawyer asked suddenly.

The trio paused in thought for a moment, though Rotton kept driving.

There was no way the Range Rover could go through the water. The river was too deep and too wide. They'd have to drive alongside the bank, but that presented another problem. The river was too long. If they went around, the car would undoubtedly run out of fuel before they even reached the nearest bridge. Then they'd have to walk, with their target, through the forest, to find that bridge. Then they'd have to walk through more of the forest before they even got to the next town.

Just then, Rotton could see the river. He realized there was a curved incline facing the water, and the car was going to go down a steep hill.

"I have an idea," Rotton said. Shenhua and Sawyer cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.

"I accelerate down this hill, drive onto that curved incline and the momentum will allow the car to jump over the river and get us to the other side."

"Rotton, that river very wide," Shenhua said, her voice and expression skeptical.

"**Not to mention... those guys,**" Sawyer said, rising from her position in the back seat and poking her head between Shenhua and Rotton, pointing to the river— or rather, the crocodiles swimming in it. "**If we don't... make the jump... we either drown... or get out of the car... and be croc bait. That scale print shirt you're wearing... isn't going to fool them.**" Sawyer then pointed to the single crocodile tooth hanging around his neck.

"**And you're wearing a piece... of one of their friends.**"

The bound and gagged man in the back seat nodded with a muffled agreement.

"**Rotton... think about what you're doing...**" Sawyer said with a dull look, sitting back down and bracing herself, somehow knowing what was coming next.

"We needing a lot of luck to make jump," Shenhua stated, looking at her reflection in her compact.

"You said I have the devil's luck," Rotton said coolly. "We'll see how far Hell takes us."

The silver haired man shifted the gear and increased the acceleration down the hill. Shenhua sighed, knowing it was too late and too hopeless to negotiate with this crazy boy. She took out a tube of lipstick and starting applying it to her mouth.

The vehicle began to shake violently as it flew down the hill. The needle on the speedometer was threateningly close to snapping off. The car met the incline and time suddenly slowed down.

The world and everything in it moved at the pace of a tortoise as the car flew through the air. The dust kicked up from the road incline wisped behind, a dragonfly floated just above the top of the car, the tires turned and flicked small bits of gravel, splashing into the river below. Momentum was gradually being lost and the car started to descend. A bold crocodile leaped out of the water and snapped its powerful jaws at one of the tires—a second too late.

Time was restored to its usual pace and the crocodile crashed back into the water while the Range Rover landed on the other side and kept on going.

Rotton slowed down and came to a halt, laying back in his seat as he took in the state of his passengers. Shenhua finished applying her lipstick and audibly kissed the air, checking her reflection one last time before putting the compact away. Sawyer sat in the back seat, her expression seeming droll, but Rotton could tell by the repeated blinking and pursed lips that she was amazed. The tied up man had passed out.

Shenhua looked out the window.

"Oh, this underworld? More trees than I imagine," Shenhua said. "So we not dead. Lady Luck still in love with you, crazy boy."

"**That... was... so... cool,**" Sawyer said. A small smile of pride made its way onto Rotton's face.

Sawyer then rose from her seat. The gothic woman brushed past Rotton's head and leaned toward Shenhua's side.

"**Even when we landed... you didn't mess up your lipstick... Cool trick.**"

"Oh, you like? Learn it long time ago when Leigarch still driving. I teach you if you interested."

Rotton sighed with a small frown. The coolest moment of his life to date and all they cared about was makeup tips.

Sawyer and Shenhua looked at each other and nodded. Yes, they had caught him off guard.

Two sharp slaps were heard.

"You very lucky, Rotton! Lucky we not kill you!"

"**Don't do something... that stupid again...**"

"We safe this time, but not wanting you to think that how it be every time we go out. Devil's luck can expire."

"**Next time... you have an idea like that... we all... take a vote...**"

The Wizard nodded as he rubbed his face. The coolest moment of his life was viewed as an annoyance by his compatriots, and their slaps hurt, but considering what the two women did for a living, he thought himself very fortunate he didn't get worse.

Still, he would have liked some sort of recognition for the once-in-a-lifetime stunt.

Sawyer and Shenhua then smiled deviously as they looked at Rotton. It seemed he soaked in the lesson, and they _did_ get out of that act alive...

They yanked him to their side of the car.

Rotton wasn't one to wear makeup, but he didn't mind the blood red lipstick marks that decorated his face.

* * *

**A/N:** Uh? Hello, you three? You still got a dude tied up in the back seat. Remember? Hey?

Pfft. Hunters these days.


	6. Friday

**FRIDAY**

The eyes of a dragon watched overhead. Paintings of mountains and valleys or a peaceful rendering of fishes in a pond were mounted on the walls, bright red tablecloths accenting the deeper, darker crimson lighting of the building, and there was the ever present scent of food wafting through the air.

"Shenhua?" Rotton asked.

"Hm?"

"Are you feeling all right? You haven't said a word since we got here."

The Taiwanese woman waved off the man's concern and mustered up the most convincing grin she could.

"It nothing, Rotton. Don't worry."

The reason Shenhua had hardly said a word was because she was not necessarily fond of this particular restaurant. It was more of a niche environment for tourists. If one wanted _real_ Chinese food, a reliable vendor or a small kitchenette in the back of a market would be the choice to make. Or, she could have cooked it at home herself.

She then looked at the silver haired man sitting across from her and sighed with a slight smile. Well, she supposed it was the thought that counted. The gesture was meaningful.

But after this, Shenhua thought as she took a swig of her _maotai_, it would be best to inform Rotton of the better culinary choices in Roanapur for future reference.

Rotton pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. He could sense her discomfort, but decided it wouldn't be wise to pry any further.

They browsed through their menus, covering their faces from the nose down.

"See anything in particular you'd like?" Rotton asked, looking up from his menu. Shenhua shook her head.

"Not yet."

"_Ooh, would you look at that? I never took Chang's fighter for that type._"

Shenhua's ears picked up a hushed tone speaking in Mandarin a small distance away, behind her. She didn't need to turn her head to know it was a waitress, literally talking behind her back no less. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"_Wow,_" came a second voice, "_no kidding! I didn't think a maneater like her went for that sort of thing. That gigolo looks expensive._"

Shenhua looked out the corner of her eye and saw two Chinese women about her age dressed in plain red cheongsams, their hair pinned up in buns, huddled closely next to each other while they held server pads over their mouths. _Two_ waitresses literally talking behind her back. The Taiwanese freelancer took an even deeper breath and turned her attention back to the menu, trying to ignore them. She never cared for gossip.

"_No, no! I don't think she pays for it. He's been seen hunting with her._"

"_No! Really? That pretty boy?_"

"_Yeah, I know. She seems to have a thing for white devils._"

"_She does, doesn't she? Wasn't she seen with that Irish guy for a while? Then that one guy with the scar on his face and the tiger-print shirt who drove her around? Now that one..._"

Shenhua's nails dug into the menu and her eyes narrowed. She took another deep breath.

"_It's really disappointing._"

"_How's that?_"

"_It's bad enough those stupid foreigners got some idea of getting a pretty Chinese girl with a bad accent on their arm, but then she goes off and supports the stereotype. What a sellout._"

It took everything in Shenhua's power not to rip the menu, and those gossips, in half.

"_And that's not all. You know that creepy little white girl with the chainsaw?_"

"_The Cleaner, too? Seriously?_"

"_So I've heard._"

"_Damn, so she sold out on both sides._"

Shenhua's hands began to shake as her teeth formed a snarl. Were those idiots so used to serving foreigners that they forgot other people knew Mandarin? Or were they just stupid?

"_But you know what I don't get?_"

"_What?_"

"_If she was going to be such a sellout, why didn't she at least choose some good ones? I mean, really? A gigolo and a corpse girl? Figures she has bad taste. Have you seen that pink eye shadow she wears? Talk about tacky._"

At that moment, Shenhua solidly determined yet another reason she didn't like the restaurant: stupid, obnoxious, gossipy waitresses.

"_I'm going on my break. I gotta go out and smoke._"

"_I'll go with you._"

Shenhua took a long, composed breath, gently folding the menu and placing it back on the table before finishing off the rest of her _maotai_. So they were going outside? It was nice how some things in the universe fell so conveniently into place.

"Rotton, I going to go to the bathroom," Shenhua said sweetly, patting him on the hand.

Shenhua gracefully rose from the table and glided out of view. Rotton continued to look over the menu in silence while the patrons quietly chatted amongst themselves.

Suddenly, there was a loud clash of what sounded like a person being smashed over the head with a garbage can. It was followed by bloodcurdling screams and angry shouting in Mandarin with the noise of what sounded like fists landing and bones breaking in the background. Then, it stopped.

The staff and patrons froze and a minute passed. Shenhua then sauntered through the restaurant, smiling like a cat that ate the canary, using a white cloth to wipe the blood off her knuckles. She walked up to Rotton and took his hand.

"Rotton, I change my mind. We go someplace else."

Having lost his appetite long ago, Rotton agreed and they walked out of the restaurant together.

No one tried to stop them.

* * *

**A/N:** Roanapur Dating Tip #45 - Remember, when a woman says she's going to the bathroom on a date, she's really going outside to kick someone's ass. They're just being ladylike about it.

Oh, don't worry. The waitresses are alive... barely.

If you're wondering why Sawyer wasn't in this chapter, she was busy working. Providing more... pork... for the city.


	7. Saturday

**SATURDAY**

Small lights glinted along Roanapur Harbor, reflections of the bright gleams dancing across the surface of the water.

Off in the distance, two bodies stood side-by-side in front of the large doors that closed off the Blue Sky Yacht Club from the rest of the city. One of the bodies belonged to a tall, impressive bulk of a Russian man wearing a dark green suit with a diagonal scar running across his face, Boris. The other was Biu, a slender, lithe Chinese man with black hair cut in a long A-line and sharp cheekbones, wearing a sleek black suit and tie while square-shaped sunglasses hid his eyes from view. They silently observed the shadows of their respective leaders at the end of the pier. Balalaika and Mr. Chang were having another one of their private "chats". The loyal subordinates and body guards couldn't hear what their leaders were saying due to the distance between them, but they were ready to take action if anything... _unfortunate_ were to take place.

Boris and Biu stood stiffly, their eyes tightly focused ahead on their leaders. It was always a tense situation whenever there was a meeting at this place, the memory of a bloodbath between the Russians and the Triads back in '93 still fresh in their heads. Despite the "treaty" between both parties since that day, Boris and Biu still never wholly trusted the bosses who headed the opposing faction. That said, while their knowledge of the bosses was extensive, they knew very little about the top subordinate they were standing beside at the moment.

That didn't mean Boris and Biu harbored no condescending opinions and preconceptions about each other.

"So, _Borscht_, how did you get that scar?" Biu asked snidely out the corner of his mouth, purposefully emphasizing the name error of the former platoon sergeant. Boris' eyebrow rose a fraction of millimeter. He didn't bother to look at the Chinese man, but spoke.

"Afghanistan," Boris said simply. He decided that Biu wasn't worth the explicit details.

"Did Baba Yaga curse the Soviets?" Biu said. "One would think if you didn't mention that country every five minutes, your heads would cave in as a consequence."

"If you wish not to hear of it, I suggest you refrain from going to a topic that would bring it up," Boris spoke with stern discipline.

"No need to get so wound up, now. It was just a question," Biu shrugged, his teeth showing in a small, smirk-like grin. Boris could feel a sudden smugness radiating from him. Was Biu contented solely because he managed to annoy him? If so, Biu's sense of humor was more irritating and ridiculous than that of Mr. Chang's.

Their eyes were still trained ahead.

"If you want, you can try to take a verbal shot at me," Biu said, challenging the buff Russian.

"Hn." Boris' jaw tightened.

"'Hn'? Is that it?" Biu asked. His grin was still there. "With the history between our organizations, I thought you'd have enough information to make a decent jab. Is Hotel Moscow not as good with words as they are with guns?"

"Perhaps if the Triads weren't so occupied with talking, Mr. Chang would have done better than the 3 bullets he placed in the Kapitan in '93."

"Ah, so you _are_ good with words," Biu said, his grin suddenly turning sour. "Then perhaps you can give me a clear answer. If your Kapitan was really the great war goddess you think she is, why couldn't she avoid the bullets in the first place? Or does that scar affect her depth perception?"

Boris still maintained a disciplined stance and looked ahead at Mr. Chang and the Kapitan's shadows.

His knuckles cracked at his sides, but he controlled himself.

"If eye sight is being called into question, you should look no further than a mirror. What breed of self-respecting gunmen would wear sunglasses at night?"

Well, mostly controlled himself.

Biu brought up his right hand and pinched the lens of his shades.

"It dulls the light of gunfire. It does no good going into a fight blind," Biu said, his tone serious.

For the first time that night, Boris looked at the man out the corner of his eye. He had always assumed it was done for vanity, not practicality.

Biu smirked again.

"And it makes the Triad look cool."

Boris immediately took his eyes off the man. Vain idiot.

They stayed silent for a few more minutes, before Biu spoke again.

"You'd follow her to the grave, wouldn't you?"

"I already have," Boris said steadily, instantly. Biu nodded in acknowledgment.

"What of yours?" Boris asked.

"Chang _da ge_, you mean?"

"Yes."

"We all know Chang _da ge_ is not the type to go rushing into a war if there is a way to negotiate," Biu started. "But if it came to that, I would fight to the death. He is a great leader; I trust him fully." Biu's voice was honest.

Boris hummed. So, there _was _common ground between them.

"We must stand by our brothers, or else be struck by a bolt of lightning and cut apart," Biu added thoughtfully.

Boris looked at Biu and raised his eyebrow again.

"It's a Triad thing," Biu explained. Boris silently accepted the answer and turned his attention back to the pier.

Suddenly, Biu leaned over and lowered his sunglasses below his eyes, squinting at the shadows at the end of the pier as though he was confused.

"Scarface, you're Balalaika's right-hand man. You know more about her than anyone else in your organization, correct?"

Ignoring the crude nickname bestowed upon him, Boris responded with a gruff, "As you probably do with Mr. Chang."

"Then please, tell me..." Biu said as he squinted more. "Why has she been smoking two cigars for the past hour?"

"Those are her eyes," Boris said, his voice swelling with pride. Biu pushed his sunglasses back up, hiding his eyes from view yet again, rolling them at the rather corny, yet unsettling and probably true, answer.

"May I ask you a question about Mr. Chang?" Boris said. There was something that had been tugging at the back of his head for a long time.

"Shoot," Biu said, straightening his posture against the door and crossing his arms.

"... Is he a fan of Chow Yun-Fat?"

Biu exhaled heavily and shook his head incredulously.

"Scarface, you have _no_ idea."

* * *

**A/N:** "And then Boris and Biu became best friends. THE END."

Okay, maybe not, but they didn't kill each other that night. Close enough.


End file.
